


Chemistry

by NoelEnough



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, anger issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelEnough/pseuds/NoelEnough
Summary: Clair Benning has it pretty good. A loving boyfriend, a stable career that she enjoys, and she's finally starting to pull herself out of the hellscape that is her past. That is until some goons got their hands on her and ripped her away from the comfortable life she was trying to build. Now she's strapped to an interrogation chair and is being asked questions she doesn't know the answers to.What started as a challenge I took when Astra made me realize that my fics tend towards abo relationships, has now ran rampantly out of control lol





	1. Response to Stimuli

_“Ryan,” I huffed as I gently applied an alcohol wipe to a gash on the man’s cheek. “I know you run security, but how on Earth do you keep getting these cuts and bruises on your cheeks?”_

_“I do my job well,” he smiled and tried to hide his wince as I cleaned his wound._

_“Well maybe you should let your boss take some hits every once and awhile,” I muttered. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”_

_“I know baby girl,” he sighed and took my hand in his before pressing a soft kiss into my wrist. “But I can’t not do my job. It’s a great way to no longer have a job.”_

_I nodded as I put away the first aid kit I now kept on the counter instead of under it. He pulled me into his lap and the dining chair groaned at my added weight. I tried to get up before the furniture broke, but he held me firmly as he wrapped his arms around me._

_“I’ll try to take it easy,” he promised as he cupped my cheek in his hand._

_“Ryan,” I sighed and placed my hand over his. I saw the small smile pull at his lips as I rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand._

_“No,” he said before I could continue. “I hate seeing you worry.”_

_I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to his. I took in every part of him I could. The way his sandy blond hair tickled my face. The feeling of his rough, work hardened hands as he ran them along my body like it was the first time he had ever touched me. The way “I love you” fell from his lips like it was as natural as breathing._

_I had been with Ryan for almost a year, but moments like this never failed to make me tear up. I never wanted them to end._

The lights flickered on, but I didn’t jump this time. I also didn’t try to hide the tear that rolled down my cheek as my memory was interrupted. I was so tired I almost couldn’t feel the physical pain anymore, only the internal pain as I ached for Ryan’s aura of safety.

One of the men gave me an impressed hum as he came around the chair I was strapped into.

“Looks like she’s finally getting used to us,” Thing 2 grunted as he lifted my chin so that I looked up at him.

The dark brown eyes that had tortured me for the last three days taunted me as I was forced to stare into their depths. My own hollow stare made him laugh as he dropped my head.

“We’ll have to amp it up then,” Thing 1 chuckled.

“You’ve got an audience to entertain today,” the Thing 2 continued as he walked into the dark other half of the concrete prison I was trapped in.

Lights were turned on and I squinted against the sudden brightness. The lights in my half of the room were dim and yellow, so the blinding whiteness of the fluorescents burned my eyes.

I could hear Thing 2 typing on a keyboard as my eyes slowly adjusted to the new lighting. There were a few moments of silence as Thing 1 heaved something that sloshed loudly onto the table of torture instruments behind me.

“Can you hear me Boss?” Thing 2 said as the white spots in my vision faded enough for me to see that he was talking into a microphone on a computer desk about ten feet in front of me. There were two large screens set up side by side, but I couldn’t quite tell what was on them yet.

“Good,” Thing 2 clapped as he hit a few buttons.

The hiss of speakers becoming active and a familiar red dot started to blink above the set up. I had thought it was just a smoke alarm, but now I recognized the rhythmic blinking of a recording camera. One screen remained black while the other showed me strapped to my chair.

For the first time in three days I saw myself beaten, bloody, and swollen from hours of torture. My shirt and face were caked with my blood, and one eye was swollen enough that it distorted that side of my face. The other eye stared at the image on the screen, the deep green orb looking lifelessly at itself.

“Jesus Christ clean her up a little,” a deep voice snapped in disgust. “I don’t want to look at that.”

A cold, damp rag was rubbed harshly against my face as Thing 1 grumbled over me and Thing 2 continued to work on the computer. The speakers rang with the sound of someone entering a chatroom and Thing 2 whooped with joy as he spun around.

“The audience is now full,” he cheered and blocked my view of the second screen. Before he stepped in my way, I caught a glimpse of a group of people sitting around a conference table.

“Now we can start the game,” he growled as he motioned for Thing 1. A hand found its way to the back of my head through my matted hair and yanked my head up so that I was sitting up looking straight ahead. My body ached as I tried to hold myself up, but a lack of food and the stress of the situation had made me weak.

“You’re used to playing games on camera right?” Thing 1 growled in my ear. Before I could respond he continued. “Only there won’t be much audience participation here.”

“You know the game already,” Thing 2 sighed as he pulled out a knife. My arms ached as each and every cut on them seemed to react to the presence of that familiar knife.

_I stood over the counter, peering down into the case full of knives. My councilor was confident enough that I wasn’t a suicide risk that she recommended purchasing a knife. She said that it would probably make me feel better, or at the very least I could go outside again and not be terrified of every person that remotely resembled my abuser._

_I had done some research before coming to the Ammunation that was down the street from my apartment, but as I looked at the wide array of blades I still had no idea what I wanted._

_“Looking for anything in particular?” a friendly voice asked and I jumped a little._

_I looked forward, expecting to see the employee behind the counter but no one was there. The only employee I had seen when I walked in was still chatting with someone over by the pistols._

_A_ _gentleman leaned on the counter to my right and looked at me expectantly as I stared at him in surprise._

_“No. Not really,” I said quietly and pulled my cardigan closed around me. “I just don’t know what to get.”_

_“Well, what do you need it for?” he asked slowly. He must have noticed my nervousness because he shifted his weight away from me, opening the space between us but still allowing him to be close enough to converse quietly._

_“Self-defense I guess,” I shrugged and looked at him. His blue eyes watched me intently as I spoke._

_“You sure you don’t want a small gun? Around here it would b-,”_

_“No,” I said too quickly and looked back down at the knives to hide my look of panic._

_“A knife it is,” he affirmed and I saw his posture change out of the corner of my eye. When I looked back at him he was trying to make himself seem smaller and less intimidating as he was clearly trying to make sure I was comfortable._

_I felt a pang of anger as I watched him chew on his lip while he thought. Was I really so pathetic looking that a stranger could tell that they needed to walk on eggshells around me?_

_I shoved the thought away like my counselor had told me to when I lashed out like that. He wasn’t being condescending or hurtful, he was just being nice._

_“Are you thinking you might actually need to use it?” he asked cautiously and watched my face. “Or just as a reassurance kind of thing?”_

_“Reassurance,” I nodded. I was glad that someone had finally put a word to what I was needing. Not necessarily protection, just reassurance that I would be okay._

_“Well then you should stick to a folding knife of some kind,” he said and started to lean in so that he could point but stopped. He looked at me for a sign and I gave him a small nod._

_“As partial to Ka-Bar’s as I am, I don’t think that’s what you need,” he explained and waved his hand to the larger blades as he got close enough to me that his chest brushed against my shoulder._

_He was talking, but I couldn’t hear a word he said as his pine scented cologne filled my nose. My body reflexively relaxed as the calming smell washed my brain of all anxiety. It was like the universe sensed that I needed to relax and sent me something it knew would calm my nerves._

_“Am I too close?” the man asked and pulled me out of my thoughts._

_“No,” I said in an airy tone. I coughed and tried to stop the heat I felt gather on my cheeks._

_“My brain just stopped working for a second,” I explained and looked to the case. “Could you just repeat what you said?”_

_“Of course,” he smiled. “You’ll probably want one that has an assisted opening mechanism.”_

_“The kind that you can flick open with one hand,” I said as I remembered reading an article on them._

_“Exactly,” he affirmed and grinned. “Can I see your hand?”_

_I stared at him blankly for a moment as I processed the request before holding out my right hand. He gently took it in his hands as he got a feel for its size, his fingers carefully running along mine before he reached into his pocket and produced a knife._

_He placed it in my palm and motioned for me to handle it. I closed my hand around the knife as I felt the residual warmth from his pocket. My finger naturally found the nub on the back of the blade and I flicked it open with a bit difficulty._

_“That’s fine,” he said as he watched me have to flick my wrist a little hard to get it to open fully. “You just don’t have the hand strength that I do.”_

_I don’t know how long we were there, huddled over the pocket knives as he helped me narrow down my choices. It could have been days for all I knew, but the way he talked about the knives drew me in. The excitement and passion in his cool blue eyes made me smile as he rambled off about how to care for your blade._

_Eventually I settled on a rainbow titanium one that had caught my eye. The fact that I could easily open and close it and the smooth handle that I could rub when nervous made it seem like fate had shoved it into my hand._

_I had bought the knife, but we stood against the counter as he continued to tell me about what to do if something went wrong with the blade. Our conversation was cut off by his phone going off._

_“What’s up?” he chirped. There was a lightly irritated voice on the other line and his brows furrowed._

_“Holy shit,” he gasped as he checked his watch. “I’m so sorry. I stopped by Ammunation to kill time and I guess got distracted.”_

_His eyes met mine and he gave me a small smile that said that he didn’t mind the distraction. He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair sheepishly as the voice on the other line was clearly scolding him._

_“I know,” he huffed. “I’ll be right there.”_

_He hung up and we stared at each other silently for a moment before he looked out the door at the setting sun._

_“I’m glad I could help you,” he smiled as he shook my hand. His hand lingered in mine as our eyes locked once more._

_“I hope you never have to use that knife though,” he said almost sadly before he forced himself to leave._

The colorful blade shone through the bright red blood that now coated its surface as Thing 2 drew it across my forearm. I grit my teeth and grunted as the painfully familiar sensation of slicing flesh woke any remaining sleeping nerves in my body.

“I ask a question. You answer it,” he said as he pulled it away. “If I don’t like your answer, you’ll be punished.”

“Where the hell did you get that gaudy ass knife?” The mysterious deep voice barked and I couldn’t stop my giggle. I was struck across the face but continued to laugh.

“She had it on her when we grabbed her,” Thing 2 scowled as my giggles faded. “It’s gaudy, but she took care of it. It’s better than some of the blades we have here.”

“Get back to your game,” the voice grunted and I looked at my bleeding arm. The rivulet of crimson snaked its way down my arm and has started to drip off the arm of my chair and was seeping into my jeans.

“Well, we’re going to have to evolve our little game. As you saw, she’s used to the cuts and punches,” Thing 2 explained cheerily as he waved my knife around.

“We’re moving on to the big guns,” Thing 1 said and patted the container he had lifted earlier. I didn’t look behind me to see. I didn’t want to know what was coming.

I took the time as they prepared to look at the other screen now that Thing 2 had moved. I saw the familiar faces of the Fake AH Crew. How could anyone not immediately recognize the bunch of psychopaths that regularly appeared on the news for some huge heist or string of robberies? They all wore their masks and were watching me intently.

Thing 1 and 2 had been asking me questions about the Fakes the whole time I have been their captive. They seemed to think that I had any idea on who they were and what they were doing. I told them that I was just a Twitch streamer and had no clue as to what they did until I saw it on the news.

“I just realized we have a slight problem,” Thing 2 gasped dramatically. “This shirt is in the way for one of our punishments.”

“You’ll have to cut it off,” Thing 1 responded with an equally fake tone. “We can’t untie her. We learned that the hard way.”

“Thought we could tie her up so that she was standing. That’s when we found out she had the knife,” Thing 2 explained and lifted his shirt to show off the five inch gash I had left in his belly. I smirked and I could have sworn I saw Vagabond’s eyes twinkle a little.

“She’s proud of that one,” Thing 1 teased. “Pretty nimble for a gamer. Shouldn’t they be fat and lazy?”

“Let’s see that pretty body of yours,” Thing 2 hissed in my ear as he slid the knife up my shirt and cut the front open. He hummed appreciatively as I glared at him, my body starting to shake with rage.

“Wear that bra for someone special?” He mocked as he continued to slice the fabric from my body. I had forgotten that I had worn the shear, pale blue bra that Ryan loved so much. My upper body now on display, the two men got to work.

“What’s your name?” Thing 2 asked.

“Clair Benning,” I said dryly. I knew the next few questions by heart.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I stream video games on Twitch,”

“Where are you from?”

“Los Santos. Parents moved her from San Andreas before I was born.”

“Are you single?”

“No.”

“How long have you been with this person?”

“Almost a year,” I stared straight ahead as I prepared for what was coming next.

“What’s their name?” Thing 2 asked and held up his hand, already knowing my response.

“Harrison Ford,” I said.

“It’s different every time,” Thing 2 smiled, and I heard a blow torch spark to life as Thing 1 prepared my punishment. “Yesterday it was Jeremy Renner.”

“Day before was Chris Pratt,” Thing 1 added before pressing a red hot poker to my back.

I screamed in pain and reflexively tried to lean away from the searing object, but he followed me and continued to burn my skin away. I whimpered and sobbed when he pulled it away and the arms of my chair groaned as I released my white knuckle grip on them. My body trembled with a combination of shock and anger.

“Why don’t you tell us who he is?” Thing 2 asked as my sobs quieted.

“I don’t want you to get your hands on him,” I panted.

“Why not?”

“I hate seeing him hurt.”

“How sweet,” the disembodied voice jeered from the computers. I looked up and glared into the camera.

“What does he do for a living?” Thing 2 pressed on.

“He’s head of security.”

“For who?”

“I don’t know,” I gulped and prepared for the next searing poke.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Thing 2 asked and I looked at him cautiously. He was breaking from his usual progression.

“I mean I don’t ask because I don’t care,” I answered and gripped the chair. He had never asked that question before. I couldn’t brace myself.

“You’re okay with not knowing who he works for?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

_“Security guard huh?” I smiled over the dining table at the fidgeting man seated with me. The restaurant he had taken me to on our first date was so much fancier than I had expected from someone with his job._

_“More like a glorified body guard,” he corrected as he twirled his butter knife between his fingers. People seated next to us stared cautiously, but I knew him well enough to know he was just nervous. Besides, I found it really attractive that he could so effortlessly make the knife dance in his hands._

_“Ryan,” I huffed and the knife stopped. “Chill out.”_

_He grumbled and put the knife down, but his leg started to bounce almost as soon as it left his fingers._

_“Ryan!” I giggled and I saw a flush spread across his cheeks._

_“I’m sorry,” he said in exasperation as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.”_

_“Is that really it?” I asked and looked him in the eyes. We had been talking online and over the phone for a few months now, but this was the first time I had seen him in person since our meeting at Ammunation._

_Ryan glanced around the dining room nervously before letting out a sigh and finally relaxing. His black button up shirt was a little tight across his chest and shoulders, but the rest of the shirt fit him perfectly. He had worn nice black jeans with it and a pair of bright green converse. The shoes made him stick out like a sore thumb in this fancy place, but it didn’t bother me._

_We had grown close since he first messaged me on Twitter asking if I remembered the guy who helped pick out my knife. He had come across my stream by chance a week or two after our first meeting and recognized me. It was awkward at first, his clumsy flirting and my shyness clashing enough that I thought it might not work. Until one day he sent me a cheer and a message arguing lore for the game I was streaming. From there we bonded over fan theories and everything seemed to click into place as we learned how to deal with each other’s personality._

_“Everyone is staring,” he muttered and finally looked at me straight for more than a second._

_“Probably because you look like you’re tweeking out,” I teased and he laughed._

_“Or because an old man is on a date with a much younger woman,” he smiled and glanced around. He had warned me that he would scan the area frequently. A byproduct of his job._

_“You’re not old,” I sighed._

_“I’m thirteen years older than you,” he retorted._

_“And I don’t give a flying fuck,” I giggled and he grinned with me._

_“So,” I smiled and put my elbows on the table so that I could hold my head in my hands._

_“How does a bodyguard afford a date at one of the fanciest restaurants in Los Santos?”_

_“I do high profile stuff,” he explained and leaned back in his chair. His hand once again drifted to the knife, but he didn’t pick it up. “More danger means more money.”_

_“Danger?” I inquired._

_“Yeah,” he sighed and locked eyes with me. “It’s not unusual for me to be shot at on a normal day.”_

_“Holy shit! Are you serious?” I gasped and he nodded._

_“Not bad for an old man,” I teased and he stuck his tongue out at me._


	2. Drawing Conclusions

          “I thought you said she was fun,” the mysterious voice complained.

          “She usually is,” Thing 1 grunted.

          “You’re right!” Thing 2 sneered. “I think she needs something to refresh her spunk.”

          My head was yanked back and the cloth used to wipe me off was thrown over my face. I tried to fight the hand holding me but I was stuck.

          “Say ahh!” Thing 1 sang.

          Icy water was poured over my face and the liquid quickly filled my mouth and nose as my body reflexively gasped at the sudden cold. The rag molded to my face and gaping mouth as the stream of water persisted well after I started coughing up water.

          When it finally stopped I threw my head forward and coughed violently. The coughing and stomach full of water made me vomit. Once I was only gasping for air, I felt a hand yank me back again.

          “No!” I shrieked but the rag was back over my face and the water flowed again.

          The process was repeated until the ran out of water, and by the time that happened I was so weak that I couldn’t sit up. My restraints were digging painfully as my shaking upper body folded over so that my head was between my knees.

          “I think you over did it,” their boss huffed.

          “No,” Thing 2 corrected him. “Just wait. We’ve broken her before. We can absolutely do it again.”

          “If she were broken, we wouldn’t be here,” the boss growled.

          “Someone got to her first,” Thing 1 explained as I heard the empty buckets clatter onto the floor by the door.

          “Did a little research on Miss Benning,” Thing 2 continued. “Popular streamer and abuse survivor.”

          He stepped beside me and ran a hand along the scar on my shoulder. I growled and he simply laughed before continuing to remind me of my past.

          “Little Miss Benning fell for the wrong girl. Mrs. Wrong beat and abused little Clair until she couldn’t take it. You see, she developed a nasty temper and started to lash out like a wounded animal. Finally, one day Clair Bear snapped and beat Mrs. Wrong to within an inch of her life.”

          I became aware of my body trembling and the heat of rage building in my aching limbs as he so loosely used the nickname my abuser had used when I was being the good passive girl she could control. My breathing was ragged as it hissed through my gritted teeth.

          “See Boss,” Thing 2 said slowly. I could hear the smile I knew he was wearing. “Here she comes now.”

_The anger was fading and my hands ached as I unclenched them. I knew it was going to be a bad day when I woke up stiff as a board and angry from a nightmare about her, but I hoped that seeing Ryan was going make me feel better._

_I stood in the middle of the kitchen shaking as I looked at the chef’s knife he clutched in his hand._

_He had threatened me with it playfully as I teased him, like he had a dozen times before when I bothered him while he cooked, but today my already on edge brain threw itself overboard at the harmless gesture._

_I desperately tried to calm it as I cowered in the corner of the room as he tried to talk me down, but it was too late._

_“He’s going to kill you,” the voice in the back of my head growled. “He’s backed you into a corner. You should have known that no one could be trusted. Fight!”_

_I was gasping through my panicked sobs and trying to focus on how gently he was touching my shoulders. He didn’t want to hurt me. He didn’t mean it, but the fire was lit and I couldn’t extinguish it fast enough._

_I shoved him away as my breathing became more ragged and made for the door of his apartment. His hand grabbed my shoulder to stop me, but I dug my nails into the back of his hand and spun around to face him as he recoiled away._

_I could see the seriousness that fell across his face as he entered his work headspace. His voice was low and even as I shook and snarled in front of him. Once again, he reached out for me but I swatted his hand away and made to leave again. He grabbed for me a third time and that was it, I swung back and threw my fist into his cheek. As he stumbled back his hand found the offending knife and he instinctively grabbed it as I stalked towards him._

_That’s where I was, shoulders and back straightening as the anger took my defensive hunch with it. I stared in horror as Ryan stood in front of me, knife clenched in his hand defensively. He eyed me cautiously for a moment and a small whimper left my lips as I saw his cheek swelling._

_It had finally happened. It had only taken two months for my temper to ruin our relationship. Tears blurred my vision and useless syllables fell from my mouth as I tried to think of the best way to explain and apologize. I had warned him that I had a bumpy past, that our chance encounter at the shop had a darker story behind it, but I hadn’t gone into detail yet. I didn’t want to dump my baggage on him and thought I had it under control._

_I yelped slightly as the chef’s knife clattered to the floor and Ryan’s arms enveloped me as he pulled me to his chest. His hand snaked up into my hair as he held my head to his shoulder and the other wrapped around my waist._

_“Who hurt you?” he hissed through gritted teeth. I realized that he was shaking and his breathing was hitching as he buried his face into my hair._

_“How can I make them pay?” he growled and a sob rocked his body._

          My face was stiff as I slowly lifted my head to glare at Thing 2.

          “Show that mug to the camera!” he jeered and shoved me back into my chair. I grunted and the red haze crept further into my vision as the action irritated the burn on my back.

          My gaze flicked quickly between the camera and the Fakes, who all shifted uncomfortably as I glared around the room. My glare locked on Vagabond, who’s eyes once again drew my attention. I cocked my head slightly as the black rimmed baby blues stared back at me. They reminded me of Ryan’s, but the masked mans’ were far more intense as he watched me.

          “What do you know about our lovely guests?” Thing 2 asked as he followed my gaze.

          “Fuck all,” I snapped as tried to wrench my hands out of their restraints. I stopped and howled in pain as the burning returned to a new location. The howl turned into a low roar as Thing 1 pulled the metal rod away and I continued to try and rip my hands free.

          “Calm down sweetheart,” Thing 2 teased and swung towards me, the back of his hand cracking against my jaw.

          I stopped moving and let my body shake as I glared at the Fake’s screen. They looked looked at me with pity and it only made the fire in my chest grow hotter. I glanced at the screen that showed me as I panted in my chair. I noted the door immediately behind me and the totally blank walls. Thing 1’s table of toys was the only thing between me and freedom. I just needed to get my captors out of the way.

          “Why the hell do you think I give a rat’s ass what they do?” I barked and sat up suddenly. Thing 2 seemed taken aback by my movement but after sharing a look with Thing 1 behind me he adjusted to meet my new reaction.

          “We know your boy toy is affiliated with them somehow,” he told me cautiously.

          “How?” I snapped and was met with silence. I needed to get them to drop their guard enough to slip up.

          “I ask the questions here!” Thing 2 growled and reared back for another slap.

          “Stop!” the boss ordered before he could follow through. “She’s getting talkative, don’t ruin it! Listen girly, if we give you some information we have on your boyfriend will you talk? Something tells me you will once you hear what we know.”

          The Fakes grew visibly uncomfortable at this turn of events and as they all looked around the room at each other, Vagabond started to fidget with something in his hands.

          “I’ll consider it,” I said slowly and sat up. My body screamed with pain, but I was getting too close to a way out to let it bother me. I shoved the pain away and focused on the anger that still fueled my drive to flee.

          “We tried to track him using the accounts he used to talk to you before you got together,” Thing 2 said begrudgingly. “But they all lead to dead ends. Who ever he is, he doesn’t want to be tracked.”

          I heard the blow torch turn off behind me and Thing 1 started to clean up. He clearly had higher hopes for my cooperation than his companion.

          “Where do the Fakes come in?” I pressed as Thing 2 glared at Thing 1.

          “We’ve noticed vehicles associated with them parked in the area around your house. Ones we know they’ve used as getaways or backups,” Thing 2 relented and finally pulled the desk chair up to me so he could sit.

          “Why do they matter to you?” I continued.

          “Business is business,” the Boss said. I could tell by his tone I wasn’t going to get much out of him on that topic.

          “Why make them watch?” I asked and nodded towards the screens. I took a moment to get a read on them. They all had a grave expression in their eyes, but the masks hid any further clues to their feelings. The only other indicator was Vagabond’s anxious knife twirling.

          “Because they want to know who’s slipped up enough to get loved ones in trouble,” the Boss explained as I stared at the familiar dance that the knife was doing.

          I was stunned as I dumbly watched the same hand motions I had grown so used to. Now that I was looking, I also recognized the knife in his hand and everything seemed to click into place.

          The late nights when Ryan would randomly show up tired and hurt, just wanting to cuddle and sleep with me in his arms. The cuts and bruises that would barely fade before being replaced by new ones. Persistent limps and stiff shoulders that he would explain away with a wave of the hand. The way his apartment seemed more like a showroom than a home. The way he would get anxious when discussing work.

          My fists clenched around the arms of the chair and the fire roared back to full intensity as I watched Ryan gracefully dance the pocket knife across his knuckles, his beautiful blue eyes watching me carefully from behind Vagabond’s skull. I was going to get out of this damned place, and beat the living shit out of him for lying to me. Then spend the next three weeks in his arms because God dammit I needed them.

          “Are you willing to talk?” the boss asked and Thing 2 smiled as he saw my anger flare up.

          “I’ll tell you everything I know,” I sighed and Ryan’s fidgeting stopped immediately. “ _If_ you untie me and promise I won’t be hurt anymore.”

          There was a long silence and Thing 2 eyed me warily but when the boss grunted in confirmation he got up and cut my bonds obediently.

          “His name is Edward,” I lied as I rubbed my wrists. The Fakes looked around and bodies released tension for a fraction of a second before regaining composure and returning to watch me. Ryan’s eyes sparkled, and I couldn’t wait to look into them in person again. Or to punch him in his dumb face.

          “Edward Hohen,” I continued to lie to their faces.

          “Yes, like the anime,” I quickly covered as Thing 1 shot me a curious look. “Fucking nerd gets off on the coincidence. His apartment is downtown, but I doubt it’s actually his. Feels more like a showroom and never looks ‘lived in’.”

          “Anything else?” Thing 2 asked and I instinctively glanced over my shoulder to make sure Thing 1 wasn’t behind me with a poker. They both held up their empty hands and gave me an evil grin.

          “Nothing I haven’t already told you,” I muttered and continued to watch them closely.

          “The name is more than enough for me,” their boss hummed. “Geoff, are you going to live up to your deal?”

          “Your weapons shipments are safe from us for a while,” The Fake’s leader said and broke their silence. “We’ll take care of Edward ourselves. How do you want to arrange Clair’s safe return home?”

          “I’ll send you some details. I’m glad we could work this out,” the absent boss said in a tone so cheery it made me want to kill everyone in the room. How could he be so happy when I had been locked in this hell for three days?

          “Geoff,” I called out before he could leave the call. He stopped and looked at me through the camera.

          “Yes Clair?” he asked and I gave him a sickeningly sweet smile.

          “Tell Edward I look forward to seeing him soon. I can’t wait to have a long talk with him about this,” I said slowly.

          “Yes ma’am,” he nodded and the screen went black.


	3. Balancing the Equation

          Six hours later I was sitting in the main building that my tormentors had been staying in while they held me captive. They had brought me in after my ‘confession’ and cleaned me up. I was allowed to shower, have a fresh change of clothes, get my phone back, and they had a medic on hand to treat my wounds. If it hadn’t been for three days of pure terror and pain, I might have been grateful, but I scowled and grunted at everyone who tried to do more than look at me after the medic was done.

          The agreement was that they would clear out after it was ensured that I wouldn’t die, let a few hours pass, and then tell the Fakes that they could come get me. After two hours of packing and an additional thirty minutes to monitor me, they had left and I immediately broke down.

          Anyone in the surrounding forest probably thought someone was being murdered as I stormed around the building and broke everything I could get my hands on. Once I ran out of breakables, I found a comfortable spot and cried until I fell asleep on a couch.

          When I woke up, my body screamed in pain and was sore to the bone. I rubbed my face and felt that the swelling had finally gone down enough for me to see correctly out of both eyes. My back tingled painfully as I sat up and relieved the pressure from my burns and my arms looked like a mummy’s as red spots seeped through the bandages. I still felt the fire of hate in my chest as I listened to the quiet forest outside. The sky out the windows was a deep purple as my third full day here came to a close.

          How could they just go on like nothing had happened? Both sides practically shook hands over my bloody body and called it a day. I tried to clench my fists, but they were so sore I couldn’t close them all the way. I took a deep breath and was met with the pungent odor of natural gas.

          I shot up despite my aching body and looked to the kitchen area. In my fit before, I had apparently turned on some of the burners. I was careful to walk over and turn them off and opened the windows to help disperse the gas. I opened the fridge and almost cried when I saw a single Coke can and a bag of clementines. I greedily snatched them up and went to sit back down and wait for the Fakes when I caught a glimpse of the concrete bunker a short distance away.

          How could they leave me over there to sit in my own blood and filth for three days while they lived in the lap of luxury in comparison? I shivered again as my anger tried to fight through my soreness. All because the Fakes threatened their shipments and they noticed Ryan parking cars near my apartment.

_Business is business._

          The other crime boss’ words echoed through my head. I wasn’t apart of that world though. Why did they have to grab _me_ of all people? I wasn’t a Fake, I didn’t follow their rules of engagement.

          I froze and looked back to the stove top. I didn’t abide by their rules and agreements. I could make them pay for pulling me in and making me suffer like I was expendable. They needed to pay for how numb I was right now, how they had manipulated my past to force my hand. They needed to pay for making Ryan worry.

          I shut the windows but left one cracked open before cranking the burners to high. I took my snacks and left the building. I set them on a folding chair outside before I approached the bunker.

          The door creaked open slowly and I felt my stomach churn as I flipped the lights on. The area was cleaned thoroughly and the only signs of anything that had happened was the strong smell of bleach that almost masked the metallic scent of my blood. Being free to move around the room, I ran through everything like I had the main building. Once everything that could be broken was, I collected a few things to help with my revenge. A bucket of kerosene, a container of gasoline, a package of washcloths, and the blow torch were carried outside as I formed my plan.

          I let most of the washcloths soak in kerosene as I doused the inside of the bunker with gas. The concrete wouldn’t burn as nicely at the wooden structure next door, but I could at least ruin everything inside. As I was about to leave, I saw a glint of colorful metal in the dim, yellow lighting. I snatched my knife up and stomped away. I used the blow torch to light a dry washcloth before tossing it into the doused bunker. There was a satisfying ‘woosh’ as the fumes ignited, and my personal hell burned.

          I turned my attention to the other building as the crackling from the bunker egged me on. I lined up the kerosene-soaked rags to make a trail from the window I had cracked open. I made my trail as long as possible and then used some dry rags to create a sort of fuse. The dry fabric would burn slower and give me time to make for the tree line with my snacks and chair.

          I stared at the shimmering air that emanated from the kitchen window, lit blow torch in one hand clementines and soda in the other with the chair tucked under my arm. I lit the dry rags and walked as fast as I could make my tired and weak legs go to the trees a couple hundred feet away.

          I tucked myself about ten feet into the trees and hid behind a large trunk as I waited for the soaked rags to catch. I only waited a minute before there was a bright burst of flame and the trail of highly flammable fabric quickly brought the fire to the open window.

          I barely had time to duck behind the tree before an explosion tore through the night. The heat of the burst reached me and instead of sending a wave of terror though me, like any laughter that kind of sounded like my abuser _still_ did to me, my fingertips tingled as adrenaline and dopamine washed over me.

          I sat in my chair and smiled as I peeled one of my clementines. The sweet juice of the fruit sent another wave of joy through me as I savored the first bit of food I’ve had since coming here. I quickly consumed the fruit as I looked through all the messages that were clogging my phone.

          Hundreds of worried tweets from subscribers wondering where I was and why I suddenly disappeared, a few text messages from concerned mods, and my email notification bubble was in the triple digits. What hurt the most were the twenty text messages, seventeen missed calls, and three voicemails from Ryan.

          The texts started as trying to start a conversation and devolved to simply saying my name. The last one was received two days ago and I thought about the blinking red light that had accompanied my torture sessions. Only now did it hit me that he probably watched every moment of my experience and couldn’t do anything to save me.

          I tried to imagine how that tore him up. He hated to watch me curl up and disassociate for hours when I was at my worst mentally. Always said that he wished he could step into my mind and fight the darkness away for me. A tear rolled down my cheek as my days away from him caught up to me and the fires of my rage crackled in front of me.

          I wanted him here to help me fight away the fear that was seeping through my body. No matter how much I wanted to be mad at him for lying to me, I knew that he had done it to protect me from his world. I would have done the same thing. No matter how bad the storm, Ryan was always my safe harbor.

          I deleted the voicemails without listening to them. I wasn’t sure that I could handle hearing his voice right now without breaking down again.

          The fire in the bunker had almost died out when I heard a car make its way down the gravel driveway. I had purposely set up my chair close to the drive so that I could watch their reactions, and sure enough I watched as they hung out the windows to get a better look at the carnage I had caused. The van hadn’t stopped yet when the younger members of the Fake AH Crew tumbled out of the side doors. They were all in their typical outfits so I knew who was who, but they didn’t have their masks on.

          Geoff parked the van and got out with his hands already tangled in his hair as he looked at the scene in front of him. Jack walked in front of the van to stand by Geoff and finally Ryan, still wearing his Vagabond mask, climbed out from the back and stood beside the Lads. I eagerly waited for their responses.

          “He’s gonna be so pissed,” Geoff groaned and there was a loud crash as the roof over the kitchen finally collapsed. Michael snorted loudly and the Lads followed suit with their own laughter.

          “But where’s Clair?” Jack asked and looked around. At the mention of my name Ryan tensed and took two large strides towards the burning buildings.

          “Hold up there big guy,” Jeremy said as he grabbed Ryan’s wrist. I saw the flash of anger in his eyes as he stared down the smaller crew member.

          “We don’t know she’s in there,” he continued and didn’t shy away from the intense stare. Ryan huffed loudly and looked around for any sign of me.

          “It’s awfully quiet,” Gavin commented. “If she’s in there, she’s already gone.”

          I hardly saw Ryan move as he grabbed the Brit and slammed him against the van hard enough that a tire came up off the ground.

          “You deserved that,” Geoff spat as the scrawny man cowered in the mercenaries’ grip. I sighed and tried to stand up, but my tired legs refused. Ryan was going to explode if I didn’t let him know I was here soon.

          “Split up,” Geoff ordered. “She’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

          The crew broke off and scanned the area for me. Ryan started towards the burning buildings and the Lads took to the tree line opposite where I was trying to convince my legs to hold my weight again.

          Geoff and Jack walked together in my direction and I listened as I gave up trying on my own. I’d wait for them to get close and ask for help.

          “You think she knows about Rye being Vagabond?” Jack asked quietly as she looked over her shoulder at the man who was getting as close to the buildings as he could without getting burned.

          “I don’t think so,” Geoff muttered. “While she did give them a huge load of bullshit, I don’t see how she could know. Ryan’s too good at separating himself from Vagabond. He’s managed to keep it from her this long, I doubt she suspects a thing.”

          “I didn’t suspect anything,” I said aloud as the were about to pass by me five feet to my left. They were too engrossed in their conversation to notice me sitting in the dark of the trees even this close.

          Geoff inhaled sharply and nearly jumped out of his skin. Jack laughed quietly as her boss clutched his chest while she walked over to me.

          “It wasn’t until I saw him twirling his knife today that I realized it was him,” I explained as Jack lifted me effortlessly from the chair. I wobbled on my weakened legs and she supported me while I tried to stand.

          “So he doesn’t know that you know?” Geoff asked as he wrapped an arm around my waist to support me as the walked me to the van.

          “Nope, and I want to keep it that way for a bit longer,” I grinned as we left the trees. “I can’t hate him for wanting to protect me, but I can make him squirm for lying to me.”

          “Jesus,” Geoff chuckled. “You’re cruel.”

          “I was just torture for three days,” I said and felt them both stiffen. “I think he can handle another hour or so of inner turmoil.”

          “It wasn’t easy for him you know,” Jack said softly as she helped me into the van and Geoff whistled for the others.

          “Practically had to tie him down after the first footage came in,” She explained as she slid to the far side of the middle bench seat and motioned for me to sit next to her.

          “We were afraid he’d kill the whole city to find you,” Geoff huffed as he hauled himself into the driver seat. I smiled and a tear fell down my cheek.

          “I know, but I can’t just let him get off without some punishment from me,” I sighed as I heard Ryan’s running footsteps skid to a stop.

          He paused to collect himself into Vagabond before taking the open seat next to me. Michael and Gavin squeezed past him and into the backseat and Jeremy joined Geoff in the front. We were pulling onto the main road back into the city when Geoff hit a pothole and caused me to bump my arm hard on Jack.

          I gritted my teeth and growled as I yanked my arm away from her and glared, the pain causing me to enter my ‘fight’ heavy Fight-or-Flight mode.

          “Jesus Christ it’s even worse in person,” she gasped and shrank away slightly at my sudden anger. Once I had calmed down, she took my arm in her hands.

          “Your bandages are soaked in gasoline!” she scolded loudly and started to peel the ruined bandages off my arms.

          “Get the other one,” Jack grunted at Ryan, who had been stiff as a board up until now. “Gav, there should be a first aid kit back there. Yeah, the big one. I’ll need all the bandages I can get.”

          “I may have gotten carried away with the gas in the bunker,” I muttered as Ryan gently unwound the left arm. He paused for a moment as the first cuts appeared from under their coverings and heard a very quiet growl before he continued.

          “You realized you’ve fucked me right?” Geoff asked. “I told him there wouldn’t be retaliation from the Fakes for this.”

          “I’m not a Fake,” I said with a smirk.

          “Oooo,” Gavin crooned behind me. “Cheeky.”

          “Just tell the motherfucker that it was lit up when you got there,” I sighed as my arms were freed from the wrappings that I only just now was realized were why my limbs were tingling.

          “This is going to hurt like a bitch,” Jack warned as she ripped open an alcohol pad with her teeth. “Vagabond, make sure she doesn’t kill me.”

          I screwed my eye’s shut and braced for the sting, but after the gasoline soak it was more soothing than painful.

          “She’s been numbed,” Jeremy said as he watched Jack pass a wipe to Ryan for him to clean my other arm.

          “Knives and fire will never hurt me again,” I joked and closed my eyes as Ryan’s tender touch made me want to lean into him. He held my hand in his to hold my arm out as he gently wiped my arm clean, and the familiar grip made goosebumps appear where they could.

          “I want to look at those next,” Jack said as she carefully spread iodine around my sliced-up arm.

          “Yes mom,” I sighed playfully, and she glared at me.

          “So are we going to ignore the elephant in the van?” Michael asked as my arms were rewrapped.

          “You mean Edward?” I giggled and the others laughed too. Ryan’s low chuckle made my heart flutter and I just wanted to bury my face in his chest.

          “Lovely bit of bullshitting,” Gavin praised.

          “The wanted information, I gave it to them. I’m just glad they didn’t fact check me before they left,” I smiled and turned to face Ryan so that Jack could look at my burns.

          I kept my head down as I pulled the back of my shirt up and let the clothing cover my chest and arms. Jack tutted sadly, and Ryan’s leather jacket creaked lightly as he craned his neck to look as the woman peeled the gauze off my back.

          I hissed as the padding took a layer of scab with it. I sobbed quietly as the pain drew tears from my eyes.

          “Fuck that almost hurts more than the burning itself,” I whimpered as Jack tenderly prodded around the offending injuries. I saw Ryan’s hands clench as he watched Jack work, and one hand almost reached up to touch me as I whined but he stopped himself before he could.

          “It usually does,” Jack softly consoled. “Good news is who ever treated you debrided the burns, so they won’t scar badly. We’ll have Kerry keep it up as you recover.”

          “Dope,” I joked. “Chicks love scars.”

          The van erupted with laughter and I yelped as Jack pressed new gauze to my back.

          “What about Edward?” Jeremy laughed.

          “Ryan can go suck a dick,” I playfully snapped as I dropped the dumb joke. I saw Ryan twitch in front of me. I could tell by the glances that they weren’t sure that I knew Ryan was actually sitting beside me. I made a big show of putting my hand on his leg as I turned myself to sit in the seat correctly.

          “Or at least learn what a fucking parking garage is,” I grumbled and Geoff snorted hard enough that he started coughing.

          “Fucking savage!” Michael chuckled.

          “Humor is my most effective coping mechanism,” I smiled and closed my eyes as I sat back into the seat. I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable my wrappings had been, but now I barely noticed that they were there.

          The van fell silent as I sighed and sank even farther into the cloth seat. I could feel sleep trying to take me, but a knot in my throat and ache in my heart kept it away.

          “Ryan,” I called out into the quiet van and there was a tense moment as everyone waited for what I was going to say.

          I tried to open my heavy eyes to look up at him, but they only lifted about half way. When I focused on him, I saw that Ryan was looking right back at me. My body loosened and I felt the ache melt away as I saw the love in his eyes. The knot only tightened as tears welled in the corners of my eyes.

          “Drop the tough guy act and hold me you dumbass,” I whispered and reached out to touch his arm.

          He didn’t hesitate as he pulled me up into his lap and pulled my head to his shoulder. His shuddering breath echoed through his mask before he ripped it off so that he could bury his face in my hair. I was peppered with soft kisses as he briefly released me to take his jacket off and drape it across my shoulders.

          “I’m so sorry,” he apologized as he once again hid his face in my hair. “I never meant for this to happen. I just didn’t want to put you in danger.”

          “You’re Vagabond dear,” Jack muttered and touched his shoulder. “That alone put a target on her whether she knew it or not.”

          His face dug deeper into my neck and he hugged me tighter to him.

          “She did good though,” Michael said softly as he leaned on the back of our row of seats. “Held up like a champ.”

          “Shouldn’t have had to!” Ryan snapped and I heard anger creep into his tone. He retreated further into my neck.

          “But she did,” Michael said bluntly. “No amount of kissing and holding is going to change the fact that she just spent three days in a torture room. We may be prepared to deal with that, but she wasn’t, and I think it’s worth fucking mentioning how well she handled it.”

          “Thank you, Michael,” I muttered and he gave me a small nod as he watched Ryan for any reaction. I sighed sadly as I felt his body shake as he inhaled.

          “Ryan, look at me,” I ordered. He hesitated for a moment but eventually lifted his head from where he had been hiding.

          His face was red and puffy as tears streamed down his cheeks, the black paint he used to outline his eyes streaked his cheeks. He sniffled and took a deep shuddering breath as his eyes locked with mine. I couldn’t wait to go home and get lost in them. I glanced around the van and everyone was staring at Ryan as he cried.

          “Your mascara is running,” I teased and he laughed through his tears. I held his face in my hands and he leaned into my touch.

          “Are you why my makeup remover disappears sometimes?” I continued to joke and he smiled and shrugged as the others giggled.

          “I will never get used to how well you can go from being hurt to joking like nothing ever happened,” he sighed and kissed my hand.

          “Years of practice,” I sighed. “And like I said: Humor is my self-defense.”

          “How did you keep yourself together, love?” Gavin asked as Ryan sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. I leaned forward and kissed Ryan for the first time in three days and I felt him shiver as I pulled back.

          “Thinking about this son of a bitch,” I smiled as a wave of relief rushed over me. “And giving them pet names helps.”

          “Pet names?” Jack asked.

          “It’s less intimidating if they’re just Thing 1 and Thing 2,” I smiled and a light chuckle rolled through the van.

          “Which reminds me,” I added as their names made my anger flair up. I held Ryan’s face firmly and he raised a curious eyebrow.

          “As soon as your little ceasefire is over, I want them dead.”

          I couldn’t help but to smile as eyes widened around the vehicle and a dark, malicious shadow crept into Ryan’s.

          “It would be my pleasure,” he growled and I pulled him in for another kiss. His hands slipped farther up my body, careful not to irritate my wounds as he continued to press passionate kisses to my lips.

          “Break it up kids,” Geoff huffed and I giggled as I hid my face in Ryan’s neck. His low chuckled was music to my ears, and his gentle back rubs pulled me back towards sleep.

          Idle chatter filled the enclosed space and the gentle rocking motion of the moving vehicle reminded me of how tired I was. I sank into Ryan as I made myself comfortable in his lap. He pulled his jacket tighter around me and cradled me in his arms as he realized my intentions. The sweet piney cologne and his familiar musk furthered the progress of my sleepy haze.

          “I’ve got you now baby girl,” he whispered and kissed the top of my head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”


End file.
